


birthday wishes

by parkerprotectionprogram



Category: Harrison Osterfield - Fandom
Genre: F/M, and u spend it with haz, because the day itself wasn't v exciting, i wrote this on my birthday lol, woo its ur birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-09-07 04:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16847590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkerprotectionprogram/pseuds/parkerprotectionprogram
Summary: it's your birthday and you spend it with your favourite boy





	birthday wishes

**Author's Note:**

> it’s my birthday! i am 17! also i’m very excited for this because i was in a huge haz mood and this is my first fic for him!!! super super super excited!!!
> 
> warnings: so fluffy and sweet also excessive use of smile and laugh and also synonyms of those words

The smell of petrichor wafts through the open window, mingling with the scent of roses. It’s the first thing you blearily register as your eyes blink several times, coaxing you from sleep. The opened curtains flutter gently in the light breeze, and you’re aware of light rain pattering on the roof and wetting your windowsill.

You yawn, shifting under the warmth of the covers as you take in the grey sky. A small, sleep tinged smile coats your lips when the door opens and shuts with a soft click, your favourite human walking towards the bed.

He crosses the room, rounding the bed and kneeling by your bedside, a soft grin lighting up his features.

“Hey, birthday girl,” he coos, leaning up to press a kiss to your temple. You shut your eyes, taking it all in. Your senses are overtaken by the scent of his cologne and minty breath, which tickles your cheeks as his nose grazes against the side of your face. You hear him chuckle when you let out a happy hum, leaning into his touch.

He watches you with bright eyes as you shift and sit up, the blanket falling away to expose your arms. He moves to sit up on the bed in front of you, lips never once turning down. The cold air against feels so deliciously fresh against your skin you can’t quite bring yourself to care when you get goosebumps.

“Haz,” you murmur, a half laugh rising from your throat when he presses soft kisses to your cheek and jaw, so light the feeling of his lips sends shivers down your spine - though you could attribute that equal parts to him and the weather.

“What?” he says, pulling back with a cheeky grin, “would you prefer birthday pinches instead?”

“I’m glad I have so many options,” you laugh, loosely winding your arms around his shoulders.

“Nothing but the best for my love,” he teases, chest rumbling with laughter when you pull a face. “What, too cheesy?”

“Just a little,” you reply, inching your forefinger and thumb together until there’s a sliver of space between them.

“Well, love,” he says, in a very matter-of-fact tone, arm winding around your waist and resting his hand on the hem of your top. “You’re always going on about how affection starved you are and since it’s your birthday, you’d better get used to the cheese, because there’s going to be a lot of it.”

“Call me out on my birthday, why don’t you, Harrison?” you mutter, leaning forward and narrowing your eyes at him.

He doesn’t look remotely fazed, simply closing the remaining distance by swooping in and kissing your nose. He bursts into laughter at the face you make, pushing him away and groaning.

“Oh you utter sap, Osterfield,” you grumble, rubbing your nose, though you feel your cheeks warm and a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“I see you trying not to smile, y/l/n,” he says, lightly grazing his fingers along the strip of skin exposed under your top and you break, snorting.

You shake your head, eyes crinkling.

“There’s that smile I adore,” he murmurs, the mirth still evident in his voice.

“Shut up, Haz,” you say, but it holds no real malice, instead you say it rather softly, head tilted back to gaze at him through half-lidded eyes. Reaching up, you brush a stray blond curl out of his face, trailing down to trace along his cheek and jaw. His skin is warm under your fingertips, a stark contrast to the icy blue of his eyes, rather fitting for the weather you were having - and the effect he had on you.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you murmur and he hums, fingers intertwining with those of your free hand.

“Yeah, ‘m gonna get it cut soon. Does it look awful?”

You shake your head lightly, weaving your fingers through the dark, golden strands. “Still unbelievably good looking.”

He chuckles at that, and you watch his face just about light up the entire room. It’s beautiful, his smile. You don’t think you could ever get tired of seeing it, or hearing him laugh.

“You’re very pretty, Haz,” you mumble, and then pull his hand towards you, lifting it up to press a kiss to his knuckles. You watch in adoration as his cheeks flush, deciding then and there that you like this look on him very much.

“Now who’s the sap?” he laughs, but you simply smile serenely at him.

“It’s your birthday,  _you’re_  supposed to be the one being wooed and here I am getting flustered because you did the hand kiss thing,” he mutters.

That elicits a giggle from you and he grabs your other hand, holding them both close. It’s a gesture that sends a rush of contentness - if that’s even a word, through you. It’s a nice feeling, you think, and one you often experience since dating Haz. But it’s never one you’ll get used to.

“Okay, love.”

His words draw you from your thoughts and you hum in response.

“It’s your special day. What do you want to do?”

You take your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth worrying at the skin until he brings his thumb and pulls it away. Your mouth quirks upwards at the gesture and you shrug.

“I’m not too bothered. Can we go for a drive? Maybe afterwards we can get food and marathon a bunch of bad movies.”

“It’s your world, love,” he says softly, “I’m just lucky to live in it.”

“If you keep saying things like that I’m afraid I’ll never be able to let you go, Osterfield,” you say hoarsely and he presses his mouth to your forehead.

“There are worse ways to live your life, and ‘m telling you, y/n, this couldn’t be any further from them.”

“Famous last words,” you breathe, stilling as he brings his face closer and closer until there’s only inches between you. And just as he moves to kiss you, you clap your hand over his mouth.

“I didn’t brush my teeth,” you blurt out and his eyes widen for a moment before they crinkle and his shoulders start to shake with laughter.

His hand reaches up to encircle your wrist loosely, pulling it away from his mouth so he can kiss your palm.

“Okay, drama queen, go do what you need to do,” he says mock exasperatedly and you press your lips together to stifle the smile.

Just as you’re slipping out the door, he calls your name and you pause in the doorway, turning to him.

“I love you. Happy birthday.”

_You’re so going to marry that boy._


End file.
